


Touch.

by iscarict



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Tony, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Other, Paralysis, Poor Tony, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-07 16:49:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19855639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iscarict/pseuds/iscarict
Summary: ⠀Tony was accustomed to it by now, the touching. Obadiah liked resting his hands on Tony's arms, shoulders, back, waist, knee, thigh. Whatever his hand could reach, whatever was more convenient at the time. Tony thought it was a normal thing, maybe a bond all Godfathers had with their Godchildren, because it wasn't like anyone else was that touchy with him.





	Touch.

⠀Tony was accustomed to it by now, the touching. Obadiah liked resting his hands on Tony's arms, shoulders, back, waist, knee, thigh. Whatever his hand could reach, whatever was more convenient at the time. Tony thought it was a normal thing, maybe a bond all Godfathers had with their Godchildren, because it wasn't like anyone else was that touchy with him. His father only laid a hand on him when it was for the cameras or when he was punishing the poor child. Jarvis and Ana were comforting but only with quick hugs and small kisses against his forehead. Maria was the same with the occasional hand holding when Tony wasn't feeling well.

With Obadiah, it was… 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩. His hand was always gentle but lingering, and it gave Tony a feeling of 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 that he brushed off. On occasion, Obie's hand would run through the child's hair, and sometimes his long, chubby fingers would get caught in a tangle. Tony would whimper in pain when the fingers tugged at the knot, and he swore he saw a smile flicker on the face of the hands owner before he smoothed Tony's hair out, asking if he was alright and apologizing for hurting him. 

Every touch had left sort of a tingling sensation in its wake, calloused fingers burning into warm flesh, making that spot feel odd and like it was full of static. Tony could never understand why the gentle touches left him feeling like that, though he never tried to dig deeper, find out.

Hands buttoned up Tony's shirt, one button at a time. Slow, slow, sloooow. Obadiah took his time, then slung an arm over Tony's shoulder and pulled him in close. His chest felt like it was on fire - though it always felt that way, always. The reactor caused much more problems than he would have originally thought for an object that was saving his life, but this burning was different…

The hand on the small of his back made chills run up his spine, hands tremble within his pockets. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, mind and body alert and ready to run or fight if need be. But, why was he feeling this way? Why was his body reacting with such, such fear? The static feel increased, flowing up the arch of his back, spreading to his arms. This was a man he trusted, a man who'd been here all Tony's life. This was a man who Tony felt he could rely on, tell everything to. So why is he so afraid? Why is his heart racing so fast, as if he'd just had the chase of his life?

Alone. Tony was alone. He was used to being alone, though, it wasn't anything new. He had grown familiar with the feeling, even welcomed it with open arms at certain points like now. The chaos of the world, the drama surrounding him and his capture months ago was all pushed to the very back of his mind, shoved within the depths to where Tony could no longer reach. 

He was alone. Let the key word be pointed out: 𝘄𝗮𝘀. 

The burning feeling came back, stronger than ever. Felt it before he knew what was happening. He picked up the phone, opening his mouth to speak to Pepper when the feeling increased. His words fell short, no sound coming out. His body twitched and jerked, very small, minuscule movements. He felt the hands on him and knew instantly what was happening. 

"𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆..."

But he couldn't. His chest ached and his nostrils flared, he wanted to cry and scream and beg but he could do nothing but lay there as he looked up at his Godfather. He felt the panic begin like a cluster of spark plugs in his abdomen as his breaths became more shallow, more rapid. The panic is a deluge of ice water surrounding every limb, creeping higher until it passes his mouth and nose. That's when the attack becomes absolute, shutting his body down as fast as punching a biochemical reset button. 

Sounds that were near feel far away, like he's no longer in the body that lies paralyzed on the beige couch. Obadiah's voice began to drown out, the sound of his own rushing blood being the only thing filling his ears. An invisible hand clasps over his mouth; an equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline pierces his heart, unloading in an instant. His ribs heaving as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate his lungs. His head is a carousel of fears spinning out of control, each one pushing his mind into blackness. He wants to run. He wants to push, wants to fight but his body was trapped in its own prison. 

The empty feeling in his chest was what brought him back to reality, brought him back to his hell. Then, the pain hit as the wires were yanked from his chest, the reactor pushed in his face for proof his heart was detached, for proof he really was as helpless as he felt. The wicked smile upon his captors face would forever be burned into his memory, etched in his brain. 

His captor. Captor isn't the right word, is it? No, no.. His friend. His Godfather. The man he trusted more than his own father. The man who was there for him when even Jarvis couldn't be there. A friend, not a foe. Not the man he has become. Not the man standing in front of him, killing him.. 

A friend.


End file.
